


Home Is Where

by Chelle1117



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 15:03:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1189566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chelle1117/pseuds/Chelle1117
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Though he was willing to surrender his spot in the lab for the evening, Rodney wasn't quite ready to return to his quarters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home Is Where

Rodney walked slowly though the hall, nodding slightly at the people brave enough to actually say something and ignoring the rest. He knew he looked frightening; he could feel the tension in his forehead, the same tension that every colleague he'd ever had from college to Atlantis had told him made his normally soft face look scarily ferocious.

"You look as if you are ready to chew nails and spit bullets, Rodney," Zelenka had said on many occasions in the last six years. Today it had been, "Get out before you alienated entire science division."

And Rodney had done so. Granted not without arguing a blue streak in the labs, but he grown to trust Zelenka over the years, and if the tiny Czech bastard was chewing Rodney a new one, then it was definitely time to vacate the premises.

While he was more than willing to surrender his spot in the lab for the evening, he wasn't exactly ready to go to his own quarters. Trying to rub the tension out of his forehead, he stopped outside Sheppard's door and rang the chime.

He heard the faint "Come in," from somewhere in the apartment, and entered. "You won't believe what the silly little crazy-haired man has done this time, Sheppard," he said, moving automatically to Sheppard's small refrigerator and pulling out a beer. Popping the tab, he took a long thick swallow and groaned in appreciation. "God, that's good." He shivered as the beer made its way to his belly and glanced toward the bed, where he assumed Sheppard would be.

Sheppard wasn't there. He frowned. "Sheppard?" he called, glancing around the room. Nothing. He moved over to the bathroom. "Colonel?" again, nothing. "Huh," he said, and stilled, standing in the middle of the room silent.

It was then he noticed the hiss of rain falling and the coolness of Sheppard's quarters. John usually reacted to the cold faster than Rodney did, so his quarters were generally warmer than Rodney found comfortable most of the time, but this evening, they were almost chilly. The cool air, combined with the chilled beer and Sheppard's absence, had Rodney shivering. "John?" he called, noticing the billowing curtains in front of the open window.

"I'm out here, Rodney," John said, the words coming from his very tiny balcony.

Rodney stepped up to the door and couldn't believe his eyes. John leaned against the railing, naked to the waist, hair flat against his head, letting the rain fall all over him. His golden skin gleamed wetly in the dying light of the day and the artificial soft lighting of Atlantis. Rodney was able to track several rivulets of water as they traversed John's back, flowing into dips and valleys of muscles and bone. Not for the first time, Rodney was struck by John's beauty.

He'd never said anything about his occasional feelings, thinking they were just moments so few and far between that saying anything would create a tension he wasn't willing to tolerate. But when those moments struck, God, it was like he'd been slammed in the chest with a baseball bat—his breath snatched from him almost cruelly.

He coughed.

"You're going to catch your death, standing like an idiot in the rain. Why are you out here?"

John lifted a shoulder, but continued to stare out at the New Lantean ocean. "No reason. Rain's warm," he said. "You should come out here."

"I'd rather not catch my death, thank you."

John sighed and turned to him, giving him a slow blink of those sharp hazel eyes. "Rodney. Get out here."

Pursing his lips, Rodney stepped onto the balcony and was surprised at the warmth of the rain that fell lightly on him. "Just so you know, Colonel, I'm using your shower before I leave."

John chuckled. "If you say so," he said, and turned again to face the ocean.

Rodney joined him on the rail. "So. What's so fascinating out here?" Rodney asked, and wiped his hand over his face, to swipe off water.

"It's just...it's good to be here," John said, "again. I didn't think-"

"You didn't think we'd be able to come home." Rodney had felt the same fear, those months back on Earth.

"Home. Yeah."

"Well, here we are." Rodney nudged John's shoulder with his own. "Now what?"

Again, John shrugged, but this time he ducked his head as well, as though avoiding Rodney's gaze, should Rodney look over at him.

"What, John?" Rodney asked.

John took a deep breath then faced Rodney. "What is home supposed to be, Rodney?"

"Hmm." Rodney considered the question for a moment. Then for a moment longer. Home was...he hadn't really thought about what home was before. He supposed, if hard pressed, he'd say that home was where family was. Where loved ones waited and celebrated when you returned from some far away exile. It was a place of safety; only in the case of Atlantis, safety was a relative term, but he'd still say that Atlantis was the safest place he'd ever lived. He felt welcomed in Atlantis in a way he'd never been welcomed before on Earth. Home is where a person could be whomever they were meant to be, and the people there would love and honor them for that honesty instead of for lying or trying to fit in.

It was cheesy, the thought that finally crossed his mind, but Rodney cleared his throat and smiled, knowing the look he was about to get. "Home is where the heart is, Sheppard."

But John didn't roll his eyes, and his mouth didn't twist into that wry, indulgent grin. He just nodded then asked in a rush, "And where is yours, Rodney?"

"Here, absolutely," Rodney said without thinking.

"You ever thought about why?" John said, frowning.

"Because of Elizabeth. Because of the team. Because I'm respected and valued here for who I am as well as what I do. And," he paused, taking a stuttering breath, worried about John's reaction to the last part of what he had to say. "Of course, because of you. You're my best friend, John. Closest person to what I would call family. Well, except for Jeannie, but, you know that."

John swallowed, a thick sound even Rodney heard and thought had to be painful. "Is that all we are?"

Rodney's eyes went wide. He didn't think John could know about his occasional slips of feeling, about the way Rodney's mouth sometimes watered at the sight of John before a mission, or after a mission when he's all dirty and scraped up and fighting the doctors in the infirmary. No way John had guessed that there are nights Rodney can't go to sleep without indulging in the fantasy of John naked in his bed, hazel eyes glittering in the moonlight. He swallowed and waved his hand frantically. "Why? What else would we be?" he asked, his voice going high pitched in that way that gave away every thought he might be entertaining. And right now, he was entertaining thoughts of his hands on John's wet, naked chest, his fingers carding through John's semi-sentient hair, and his lips opening over John's. He swallowed and blinked, hard.

John seemed to shrink a little, settling back against the railing, and letting the rain wash over his shadowed face. Rodney ached to feel the roughness of John's stubble against his lips. "Nothing, I guess," John said.

But Rodney, sensing a shift in the air, a change for the better on the horizon was having none of that retreat. He moved into John's space. He laid his hand on John's bare shoulder, let his fingernails scrape the skin lightly. "John," he said, "You're my best friend. But I'd be lying, if...if I said I never..." He sighed. "Sometimes, I wonder...I can admit that. I can say I've thought about you in another capacity."

John huffed a dry laugh. "What capacity is that?" his voice was wry, brittle and close to breaking.

Rodney took a deep breath, thinking it was now or never, and tugged on John's shoulder to turn him. He leaned in, chasing John's eyes with his own. "This one," he said, and gently, so gently as to almost not even happen, he pressed his lips to John's. He kept his eyes open, watching for any kind of reaction from John, so he'd know what to do next.

When John sucked in a quick breath and let his eyes drift closed as he pressed deeper into the kiss, Rodney groaned in relief and opened his mouth against John's to slide his tongue along the seam of John's lips.

John shuddered in his grip, and opened to him, tilting his head into the kiss, his hands resting on Rodney's arms, gripping lightly, then sliding slowly up and over Rodney's shoulders.

In that instant, Rodney forgot about the rain, about the setting sun, about his exhaustion and tension. He forgot it all as his world shrank to exclude all but the warmth of John's skin under his fingers, the rasp of John's stubble against his lips, the cool whoosh of air from John's nose against his cheek and the velvety, hot slickness of John's mouth.

When John's hands lifted to cradle Rodney's face, Rodney couldn't help but think he'd been right. Home is definitely where the heart is.

  
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

This story archived at <http://www.wraithbait.com/viewstory.php?sid=15298>  



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